Grease: Chuck's the Word
by UKChuckster
Summary: When a new girl arrives at Chuck's High School, he finds himself quickly falling head over heels in love with her. But he soon finds out she's really a spy sent to keep an eye on him, and then everything changes.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey :). So, you probably weren't expecting this... This one actually popped into my head a while ago, and I've been nursing the idea for a while. I have a decent buffer of a few chapters; so you can look forward to regular weekly updates... if the whole thing doesn't suck, that is.**

**Before this gets underway, I do want to say thank you to the wonderful KateMcK, who gave me permission to go ahead with this, even though she has her own Grease story. You should all go and check her stuff out, because it's amazing (much better than mine, at any rate)! Also, many thanks to Quistie94, for inspiring me to write this, with the awesome **_**Sound of Music**_** and **_**Sound of Music II**_**, and also for putting up with my questions and giving me some great tips. **

**Finally, I want to say a massive thank you to Hotski, my pre-reader for this story, for all his insight and helpful feedback. **

**Now, without further ado...**

(Sung to the tune of _Love is a many splendored thing_)

Love is a many splendored thing.

It fights all the bars,

That prevent it from joining the two.

Love is nature's way of giving,

A finger to all the rules.

A simple thing in this world of complex things.

**Grease: Chuck's the Word**

_Slosh, slosh._ The sea lapped gently at Chuck's feet, as he sat at the water's edge, looking out at the endless Pacific; rolling out to meet the horizon. _September 3rd_. He stopped fighting the air that was choking his throat as it fought its way out, and released a sigh; allowing a single tear to roll down his cheek as he recalled what had happened this time last year, before wrenching his thoughts away from that topic, and back towards happier times. He remembered a time when he was sitting here, eating ice cream and sitting next to Ellie, watching his parents fighting each other playfully with foam spaghetti things, and he chuckled sadly, brushing a few tears out of his eyes.

"Laughing to yourself?"

The light voice pulled him out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see a blonde girl, about his age, standing behind him. A _beautiful_ blonde girl, whose soft, golden hair fell down along the sides of her face and framed it perfectly. He blushed slightly, and brushed the remaining tears out of his eyes, before quickly looking back out to the sea when he saw her small smile drop.

"Laughing _and_ crying," he heard her whisper to no one in particular, before he felt the sand shifting next to him. He turned to look at her, and found her sitting next to him. Sitting _right_ next to him; the small smile back again, and playing along her lips. "You look like you need some company," she said simply, before pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on them. His withdrawn face broke into the tiniest of half-smiles, and hers seemed to brighten a bit when she saw it. But maybe he was just imagining things. He turned back to the sea, and looked out at the small yacht in the distance. It was rolling over the large waves, and had just dipped down below the horizon when he felt something gently bump into his shoulder. He turned around to her again, and she smiled softly at him, before stretching her arm out and pointing at pod of seals, flapping around and splashing in the ocean as they swam towards the shore. He couldn't help his lips curling up into a smile at the sight cute, blubbery animals' ungainly butterfly stroke; and when she turned to face him again, a grin plastered across her own face, he grinned back at her without even thinking.

He wasn't sure how long they had sat there for, grinning like idiots, laughing and watching the west coast wildlife, but the Sun had already begun to dip below the horizon—casting a fiery orange glow over the previously crisp blue sky, and shading the white clouds in a dark tint of grey—when Chuck heard Ellie's voice calling him from the top of one of the sand dunes that secluded this part of the beach from the usually-crowded main stretch. He looked over his shoulder, squinting to see her in the dark shadow that had been cast by the setting Sun, and called her over, before turning back to look at the girl; the one who had actually managed to make him smile on the day even Morgan had left him alone to mourn. However, all he saw when he looked to his side was a small pit in the sand where she had been sitting. With his face falling back into the solemn expression it had held before, he looked up, and saw her walking away, towards the sand dunes on the opposite side of the beach. She turned to face him, and gave him a small smile; one he was pretty sure held some sadness. After seeing Ellie give him the same smile for three weeks after that day, until he finally found her in the bathroom, crying, he had become pretty adept at spotting it. He smiled back, and she turned around just as he opened his mouth to call after her. But he was too slow, and he watched as her brown leather jacket swiftly disappeared into the shadows.

"Hey, Chuck," Ellie said softly, and he quickly turned to find her standing on his other side. "Who was she?"

"No one Sis," Chuck replied, shaking his head and allowing a sad expression to mask his face again, "she said I looked like I needed some company."

**~Grease~**

Sarah stepped under the shadows of the sand dunes with a small smile still playing on her face as she turned to watch the boy with his... Sister? She had heard him say "Sis," at any rate. Quickly, she reached under her brown leather jacket and allowed her fingers to brush against the handle of the knife that was firmly ensconced in her under-arm holster, before pulling out her phone and hitting the call back button.

"Director," she acknowledged, keeping her voice even, "I'm sorry for the delay, I wasn't alone." The Director began to say something, but then paused, and Sarah quickly thought back over what she had just said. _Wasn't alone... Oh._

"You weren't alone?" he asked, with a curious edge to his voice. "Who were you with?"

"Just a boy at the beach. He was crying, looked like he needed cheering up."

"Hm," was the noise Sarah received in response to that. "Anyway," the Director began, "I assume you want to know why you've been moved to L.A. from New York?"

"Yes," she replied cautiously. She had been wondering why she had been moved ever since he had posted the airplane tickets to her without so much as a phone call. "I thought I was doing fine at Bronxville?"

"You were, excellently well in fact. But we moved you for another reason."

Sarah remained silent and waited for him to continue. Why did he feel the need to wait anyway? _Probably for dramatic effect. He likes drama. _

"There's a boy at your new High School, Buchanan High, who needs... protection."

Sarah felt her eyebrow rise. Why did they feel the need to protect an 18 year old High School student? "Um, why?"

"I'm sorry, Sarah," Graham replied with such sincerity that Sarah might have actually believed he was sorry. If he _wasn't _Langston Graham, that is. "It's too highly classified. Just suffice it to say: he's a one of a kind person. There's no one else like him," Graham paused, as if pondering something. "His name is Chuck Bartowski. Actually, his parents were with the Agency. They were killed last year," Graham finished delicately.

Sarah felt her heart pang and stomach drop. Sure, her parents had never been _around_, but he had had them ripped from his life. "So... I just, keep an eye on him? Make sure he's fine?" she asked, her voice breaking a little.

"Yes, make sure he stays out of trouble. Doesn't get himself killed. He's incredibly important."

"What about covers? Do I tell him anything?" she asked, in an attempt to drag the conversation away from parents.

"No. You'll keep your current cover, but don't tell him anything. For now."

"Right," Sarah replied, attempting to be firm, but unable to keep the slight unsure tone from her voice.

"Oh, and Sarah."

"Yes?"

"I've got you the placement at Harvard that you need to complete your training: double major in Languages and International Relations. But you need to pass Senior Year to get in."

Sarah's face broke out into a smile at that. "Right, of course," she replied, struggling to keep a happy sigh from escaping.

"I'm sending you his full dossier now," Graham finished, before unceremoniously cutting the line. Her phone pinged in her hand, and she looked down at it, before opening up the file. The bright back light of the phone suddenly lit up her face in the darkness and she frantically covered the screen with her hand before scrolling down the document, upon which "Top Secret" was officiously printed along the top and bottom on every page. She stopped on the photo page and double tapped on the image to zoom in. And her body froze as it smoothly expanded to fill the screen. _Oh no. _Gulping, she slowly looked up to see the boy still sitting with his sister, watching the sky as a green flash quickly rippled across it. _Not him. _She looked back down at the photo, all happiness at her Harvard placement having long since evaporated. _It's him. _She looked up, watching as the sky fell into darker and darker shades of blue, and sighed. _Why was this her life?_

(Sung to the tune of _Grease is the Word_)

Sarah:

They took me i-in, and they showed me the way.  
Taught me to kick and punch, taught me to shoot a gun.  
There ain't no danger that I will not face.  
I understand now, that it's the greater good.

This is my life.

They took my father on a con gone wrong.  
Left me all on my own, with just some cash and knives.  
They told me that they'd take care of me.  
They were lying to me, but they had helped anyway.

This is my life.

This is my life, it's the one that I know.  
It is the only thing that I do.  
I am a spy, because they're the C-I-A.  
Spying is all that I can do.

They took the fear and they threw 't away.  
Don't have to reflect, just have to follow orders.  
I don't even have to be who I am.  
I can be anyone, hide from the past, hide it all.

This is my life.

This is my life, it's the one that I know.  
It's the only thing I do.  
I am a spy, because they're the C-I-A.  
Spying is all that I can do.

This is my life of deception.  
Filled up with action, covered in danger.  
What is he doing here?

His parents were taken from him.  
They were ripped from his life without him knowing doesn't even know that he's special.  
It is my job now, to protect him from harm.

This is my life.

This is my life, it's the one that I know.  
It's the only thing I do.  
I am a spy, because they're the C-I-A.  
Spying is all that I can do.

This is my life, it's the one that I know.  
It's the only thing I do.  
I am a spy, because they're the C-I-A.  
Spying is all that I can do.

This is my life,  
Is my life,  
Is my life,  
Is my life,  
Is my life,  
Is my life,  
Is my life,  
Is my life,  
Is my life.

She stopped, and looked back up to see him standing up, and walking slowly back over the dunes with his sister. This was going to be an interesting year, she thought glumly.


	2. Chapter 2

**I forgot the disclaimer last time, but it's back in full flow now. **

_~Disclaimer: Chuck belongs to NBC and Warner Bros., not me. If it is for sale, please let me know so I can buy it. However, until then, I make no money from this. Please don't sue me! P.S. I don't own Grease the movie or the musical either.~_

"No no no," Chuck said, shaking his head and jabbing a finger at the piece of squared paper that had been thrust in front of him, "you're only supposed to _square_ that one. You _square root_ the whole thing." He stood back half a step, and watched as the brunette girl in front of him bit down on her lip and pulled out a calculator from her pocket, before typing on it furiously.

"Chuck!" she exclaimed suddenly, a grin spreading across her face. "You're a genius, thank you!"

"No problem, Hannah," he chuckled.

"See you in Computing?" she asked with a smile.

"Uh, yeah, I guess," he replied, "there aren't many of us, so we'll probably be in the same class."

"Great." She flashed him another smile before turning around and running down the main pathway towards the school building. Chuck followed her bouncing bob of brunette hair up the path, before his eyes settled on the tall stone façade of James Buchanan High School. It was a rather impressive structure; an architect might say it was an interesting fusion of neoclassical and modern styles, but 'impressive' was as far as Chuck was willing to go. Although the sandy coloured main building was generally rectangular in shape, the front was accentuated by soaring square pillars that spanned the entire height of the school, trapping the huge floor-to-ceiling second storey windows between them, and protruding slightly from the top of the building; creating a crenellated effect.

"Agent Carmichael," a voice called out from behind Chuck, and he spun around. Chuck watched as the short guy behind him attempted to stop the grin spreading across his face whilst he stoically—if a long strided half-run could be described as 'stoic'—walked along the main pathway towards Chuck.

"Mr Grimes," he replied, struggling to keep a serious face, "how are things at home?"

Morgan snorted and dropped the serious persona, opting instead for his usual full on run-with-arms-stretched-out-towards-Chuck attitude, and slammed into Chuck, pulling him into a quick hug before smacking him on the back. "Duuuuuude, how's the game going?"

"Up to nine hundred hits," Chuck replied, grinning.

"Awesome!" Morgan shouted, drawing stares from the nearby ninth graders, whilst the older kids rolled their eyes and continued on walking. "I got an awesome idea for another one," he continued, as they resumed walking along the shrub bounded pathway towards the main school building.

"Cool, I was thinking we could optimize the Physics Engine a bit more, tighten up the collisions system," Chuck said.

"Well, you can do your Physics-y mumbo jumbo whilst I plan out a sweet new landscape."

"Morgan," Chuck laughed lightly, "You did Physics as well..."

"Yea, well at least I didn't take _pleasure_ in doing it. Let me set the scene for you, Chuck. Imagine standing atop a sand dune, as a vast, endless desert stretches out from you in all directions," Morgan began, grandly sweeping his arms out in front of him to demonstrate vastness. "As you squint into the distance, shielding your eyes from the light from the three scorching suns that is beating down relentlessly, scattering light off from the sand granules, you can see the shimmering outline of civilisation. Not knowing if what you can see is a mirage, taunting you with cruel hope, as the Greeks tempted the Trojans, or if it could, in fact, be your salvation, you slowly make your way down from your observatory," he finished dramatically.

"Wow, that sounds... awesome," Chuck replied after a reflexive pause, as a slight dreamy expression crossed his face whilst he pictured what Morgan had just described to him. "What would the game play be like?"

"I dunno yet, game mechanics are your thing."

"Hah," Chuck mock-laughed, "we can draw out the plot in Comp Sci."

"Speaking of Comp Sci," Morgan began, "Hannah looked pretty excited to see you..."

"Really?" Chuck snorted.

"Dude, did you not see the look on her face? She's totally into you."

"Yea. Right. A girl likes me. I think I also saw a pig flying overhead."

"'Chuck, you're a genius!'" Morgan imitated in a loud, high pitched voice, slapping his hands against the sides of his face in mock surprise, leaving Chuck to shake his head in disbelief.

**~Grease~**

Sarah tensed as she crept along the wall of the corridor, fighting the urge to scream and run away from the large crowd of students thronging the hallway. Normally, she would also be fighting the urge to take out and stab the next person who, say, shoved her into the wall causing her to narrowly miss crashing into the pin board. She wouldn't _kill_ them. Only maim, or seriously injure. Anyway, that was beside the point, since Graham had convinced her to leave her knife at the hotel. With a grimace, and lamenting the loss of the comforting weight of the large, sharpened weapon, she pushed forward through the crowd, trying to make her way to the main office.

"Watch out!" She snapped her head up, to see an open folder flying towards her, its spiky ring binders sitting dangerously wide open as it tumbled towards a ninth grader. Without hesitating, she plucked it out of the air, and shoved it straight into the nearby trashcan. It was empty anyway, since the papers were currently strewn across the length of the hallway. Ignoring the look of gratitude on the ninth grader's face, and silencing the incensed "hey" from the owner with a single look, she slipped sideways into the office.

Gently pushing the door shut behind her, she looked up to see the secretary looking up at her with slightly wide eyes, and realised with a start that the door had been opened when she had unceremoniously dumped someone's work into the trash. "Um, hi," she began weakly.

"You must be the new girl," the secretary stated. "Here is your timetable, and school calendar."

Sarah stepped forwards towards the oak desk, and picked up her timetable. She groaned. Politics first. US Politics. The bright side was the free period following it. But still, _Politics_. "Thanks," she said, sheepishly gathering the rest of the things that the secretary had laid out for her, and sliding back towards the door.

**~Grease~**

Chuck skidded to a halt outside the computer room, grabbing the door handle to stop himself from gliding right past on the newly polished floors. _Late. To the first lesson of the year. _Biting his lip, and scrunching up his face in shame, he slowly creaked the door open, allowing the cold, air conditioned atmosphere inside to leak out into the hallway.

"Bartowski!"

Chuck jerked slightly and stood up a little straighter when he heard his name - like a small child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

"Get in here and shut the door. You're letting the warm in."

"Yes sir," Chuck replied, moving into the frigid room and pushing the door shut behind him.

"Why are you so late? Even Mr Grimes arrived before you."

Chuck looked up, to see Morgan looking at him smugly from the third row back. He was sitting next to Hannah, who smiled and waved subtly. "I'm sorry sir."

"Go sit next to Larkin. You haven't missed anything yet."

Chuck bowed his head and shuffled to the back of the computer room, shooting a small smile to Morgan and Hannah as he passed them, before dropping down into the swivel chair next to Bryce. "Bryce," he acknowledged.

"Chuck," Bryce grinned at him. "How was your summer?"

"Pretty good, actually. Better than last year anyway," Chuck laughed hollowly.

"Hm," Bryce frowned, before nodding his head back to the front of the classroom. "At least we've still got Kennedy."

"Yea, better than Wilson."

"Today I'm just going to leave you all to finish up your summer projects," Mr Kennedy began, before turning to the Chinese girl who was wearing too much eye shadow who in the front row. "Anna, you've already given me yours. I trust you'll find something to occupy yourself for this lesson?"

"What about you?" Chuck asked, idly swinging the chair back and forth as he waited for the computer to log in.

"Hm?" Bryce asked. Chuck glanced up to see him staring intensely at the keyboard, a frown firmly entrenched into his forehead.

"How was your summer?"

"Oh, fine," he replied, nonchalantly waving his hand. "Damn' it! What's my password?!"

"Carina594, capital C," Chuck supplied easily, before adding, "you told me at the end of last year," in response to Bryce's blanched expression.

"What? I know..."

"You looked a little surprised, that's all, " Chuck said. "How is Carina anyway?" he added, as he opened up Internet Explorer (_urgh, Internet Explorer_) and tapped in a website address.

"Oh, she's fine. I guess."

Chuck looked up at that, raising an eyebrow. "You guess?"

"We, um, kind of... broke up." Bryce replied hurriedly, and Chuck noticed that he had opened up the change password window.

"What?" Chuck hissed, dropping his voice so that Jeff and Lester, sitting on the row behind them, couldn't overhear. "Again?!"

"Um, yea," he replied abruptly. "What are you doing?"

"Talking to Morgan," Chuck replied, frowning at the sudden change of topic, but deciding to let it drop.

"IRC?"

"Yep."

"What channel?"

"Freenode, channel hash piranha," Chuck replied, looking back at his screen.

_"Morgan: Hannah can't stop talking about you,"_ it read.

_"Chuck: Still no sign of any pigs, Morgan,"_ Chuck replied.

_"Morgan: ::rolleyes:: Any plot ideas?"_

_"Chuck: Nope."_

_"Morgan: Helpful."_

_"Chuck: I do strive for excellence."_

_"Chuck: Maybe we should think of a plot *before* doing concept art."_

_"Bryce: Concept art for what?"_

_"Morgan: The game we're making."_

"Haven't you already made a game?" Bryce asked.

"Yea, this is the next one," Chuck replied with a grin.

"Class," Mr Kennedy's voice echoed to the back of the computer room, "I need to go do something. If I'm not back by the end of the period you can go."

"How did the other one go?" Bryce asked curiously.

**Summer Codin'**

(Sung to the tune of _Summer Nights_)

Chuck:  
Summer codin', had a real blast.

Bryce:  
Summer codin', what did you make?

Chuck:  
I made a game, physics and all.

Morgan:  
I drew models, on my Mac.

Chuck & Morgan:  
Summer codin', oh what fun. Making games, all day and night.

Whole Class:  
Codin', codin', codin', uh-huh!  
Tell us more, tell us more,

Lester:  
Did you use C-plus-plus?

Whole Class:  
Tell us more, tell us more,

Jeff:  
Did you draw some hot chicks?

Whole Class:  
Do-do uh-huh, do-do uh-huh, do-do uh-huh, do-do uh-huh!

Chuck:  
I spent a week, making 'splosions

Morgan:  
I spent a month, sketching it out.

Chuck:  
My P-C hummed, I click and tap.

Morgan:  
He showed off, graphics at max.

Chuck & Morgan:  
Summer codin', oh what fun. Making games, all day and night.

Whole Class:  
Codin', codin', codin', uh-huh!  
Tell us more, tell us more,

Bryce:  
Like does it have big guns?

Whole Class:  
Tell us more, tell us more,

Anna:  
Are you gonna sell it, or what?

Whole Class:  
Dam, do-be-do, do-be-do, do-be-do-be-do-be!  
Dam, do-be-do, do-be-do, do-be-do-be-do-be!

Chuck:  
We did 'research', in the arcade.

Morgan:  
He beat me twice, on Asteroids!

Chuck:  
We went home, played some COD 4.

Morgan:  
We stayed up, planned out a mish.

Chuck & Morgan:  
Summer codin', oh what fun. Making games, all day and night.

Whole Class:  
Codin', codin', codin', uh-huh!  
Tell us more, tell us more,

Lester:  
But you don't have to brag.

Whole Class:  
Tell us more, tell us more,

Shaw (from the hallway, speaking):  
You should all really die.

Whole Class:  
Shoo-bop-bop, shoo-bop-bop, shoo-bop-bop, shoo-bop-bop, shoo-bop-bop, shoo-bop-bop, shoo-bop-bop, yeah!

Morgan:  
Finished the game, packaged it up.

Chuck:  
Put it up on, the Internet.

Morgan:  
Got two hundred, hits in one week.

Chuck:  
We'd count that, as a success.

Whole Class:  
Woah!

Chuck & Morgan:  
Summer codin', oh what fun. Making games, all day and night.

Whole Class:  
Woo, woo, woo!  
Tell us more, tell us more,

Bryce:  
Why don't you do 't again?

Whole Class:  
Tell us more, tell us more,

Anna:  
Did you make any cash?

Chuck:  
Then it arrived: September 3rd.  
I went home, stayed at the beach.  
Ate ice cream, looked at the sea.  
Met a girl, she was real nice.

Morgan & Bryce:  
Summer time, why must it end?

Chuck:  
Bu-ut oh, those su-ummer days.

Whole Class:  
Tell us more, tell us more...

**~Grease~**

Sarah pressed her nose gently up against the cold glass of the computer room door, peering through the partially opened blinds at the curly-haired boy sitting in the back row. _Chuck_. She drew out a long, slow sigh and allowed her eyelids to momentarily slide down over her eyes. He looked so peaceful, his eyes scrunched up as he focused on whatever he was doing, with his fingers dancing across the keyboard, tracing out intricate patterns that would impress a professional pianist. He was the only one from his class still in room, the rest of them having long since evaporated away to their next class, or back to the common room. Clearly, he had a free period. And so did she. She wasn't quite sure why her heart was fluttering at the thought of them sharing at least one free period—which meant they probably shared all their free periods. She was, however, quite sure that he was now staring at her staring at him. _Shit_. She jumped back away from the window, and watched as his eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up into his floppy fringe. Averting her gaze towards her feet, she waved sheepishly at him as he slid out from behind the desk and wandered over to the classroom door, from which she had been slowly backing away.

He poked his head out awkwardly from behind the door, and blinked at her. "Hey..." he said, swallowing and biting in the inside of his lip.

"Hi Chuck," she replied quickly, without thinking. Not thinking was a bad idea when you were a spy. A spy on a mission with something to hide.

"I never told you my name," he said, his face falling into a frown.

Sarah felt her eyes widening. _Damn'. Damn' damn' damn'._ "I, um, I may or may not have seen your photo in the register," she said forcing a blush to rise up her neck. Though, not much forcing was actually needed.

"Right," he said, drawing out the vowel, "sure." He stepped out from behind the door, his face breaking out into a smile. "Since you have clearly found out my name, it's only fair that I know yours, right?"

"Sarah," she grinned brightly, sticking out her hand.

"Hello Sarah," he replied, grabbing her hand and shaking it. "It's nice to meet you."

She giggled. _Wait, what?_ "It's nice to meet you too Chuck," she said, attempting to ignore the warm feeling that was lingering in her hand, even after he had pulled away.

"So, I, um... I guess you're new here? Seeing as how I've never seen you around."

"Just moved here from New York," Sarah replied.

"Ah, New York! Well, we don't have anything so fancy that it has the word 'empire' in it's name, but I can give you a tour?" he asked, and she sensed more than a little hope and worry in his voice.

"I'd love that," she replied, and (unsuccessfully) tried to ignore the fluttery feeling in her stomach that she got when he grinned at her.

**~Grease~**

"And last, but certainly not least," he paused for dramatic effect, "the common room!"

She laughed as he spread his arms grandiosely at the door to the common room, concluding what had been a whirlwind tour of the school.

"I hope the tour was satisfactory," he said, smiling at her. He was surprised when she nodded and hugged him briefly, before glancing down at her thin-strapped watch.

"Damn' it," she muttered, "I've got to go. Thank you, Chuck."

He was vaguely aware of the goofy smile that was etched onto his face as he watched her walk quickly down the whitewashed corridor, with a stack of folders fixed firmly under her arm and her hair tucked gently behind her ear on one side. She was beautiful. She smelled of strawberries.


	3. Chapter 3

**When reading this, bear in mind that I've never been to an American High School, and so have no idea what kind of food is served in one. If I were describing an English school, there would be less pizza and fries, and more bangers and mash...**

**Please be aware the the songs in this FanFiction may be cheesy and/or wretch-worthy. Thank you.**

_~Disclaimer: Chuck belongs to NBC and Warner Bros., not me. If it is for sale, please let me know so I can buy it. However, until then, I make no money from this. Please don't sue me! P.S. I don't own Grease the movie or the musical either.~_

Sarah held her hand up to her face, shielding it against the warm Los Angeles sun that was currently beating down on the school as she made her way to the school cafeteria.

"Looks like it's gloop again today," the red haired girl with whom she was walking commented, as they walked into the door marked 'in' by a plastic card hanging from the frame. "You're from New York, right," she continued, "food any better there?"

"Nope, not really Carina," Sarah replied, shaking her head and grabbing a tray from the pile. Just ahead of them was the main food counter, laid out with slab like boards of rectangular pizza – cut up into smaller rectangles – and with trays of fries, mashed potatoes and hamburgers. Opposite them was a cold counter, filled with pre packed sandwiches and an assortment of drinks, none of which were water. She grimaced as she looked at the oil oozing out from the cheese that was laden on top of the pizzas, and decided to opt for something a little less heart attack inducing.

Muttering a quick 'urgh' to Carina, she stepped out of the heart attack line, and grabbed a BLT sandwich and a can of Coke, the diet kind, from the cold counter. Out of habit, she scanned the room as she waited to pay behind some thickly built jock. It didn't take her long to spot him, sitting at a round table with a short guy who looked like he was trying (and failing) to grow a beard and another guy with a classically handsome chiseled face and floppy dark hair. She didn't know either of them, though she presumed they were Chuck's friends. Graham had offered her a full dossier on him, and she would have normally gladly taken up the offer – anything to give her some kind of advantage or leverage – but, for some reason unbeknownst to her, she refused. Just as the jock began to move off, she noticed out of the corner of her eye a hand reach across to her can of Coke. Without turning around, she grabbed the wrist.

"Carina. Don't touch my food."

"You know, Walker, it's scary how you do that."

"I've only done it to you once."

"Yeah, but I saw you do it to Danny boy in double Spanish."

"What? That Shaw guy? He shouldn't have accidentally-on-purpose fallen on me."

"You didn't have to flip over and pin him to the ground with his arm pulled behind his back at an unholy angle."

Sarah shrugged. "Force of habit."

She paid, and waited for Carina before moving into the seating area of the cafeteria. Without much thought, she began to walk towards the table where Chuck was sitting. There was a free table next to it, and most of the rest of the place was full – that was her excuse, anyway. But when she was about halfway there, Carina, who had apparently been following her, grabbed her arm.

"Do we have to sit there?" she asked, looking pointedly at Chuck's table.

"There's not really anywhere else, Carina."

"There's some space there, next to Amy and Zondra."

"But I want to sit near…" she caught herself, and blinked, dumbfounded, for a moment. _What the hell was that. Get a grip, Walker!_ "Oh, um, okay," she said dryly after a moment, attempting to avoid Carina's penetrating and mischievous stare, and allowing herself to be led toward Amy and Zondra.

"Hola," Zondra said, looking up from her plate for a moment. She was taller than both Sarah and Carina, which was saying something, given both of their not-exactly-short statures, and was pretty much fluent in Spanish. Sarah had no idea why she even bothered to turn up for the AP class.

"Hey," Carina said, before glancing at the shorter blonde haired girl sitting next to Zondra who was staring down at her lap, her thumbs moving at a relentless speed across the screen of her iPhone.

"Dumping this weekend's conquest," Zondra stated without elaboration, noticing Carina's gaze. "Sarah," she said, turning to face her, "how's the first day been so far?"

"Good. G&P was... interesting."

Zondra laughed. "Don't tell me – you've got Mrs Johnson?"

"How did you know?" Sarah replied with a laugh and sigh.

"Because my first reaction to her was 'interesting' as well."

Sarah laughed, and snuck a look across the hallway, to see Chuck staring at her. She caught his eye momentarily before he ducked away and blushed a bright red. _He is adorable_. Just then, she felt a large, hulking presence behind her.

"Can I help you?" she asked, turning around to see the same guy who had been standing in front of her earlier.

"Hey," he said, "me and my friends were just looking around, and you happened to catch our eye."

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "Oh. Did I, know."

"Yeah. You did. We're having a little gathering next week, and we're wondering if you would be able to make it. Of course, Carina and your other friends would be more than welcome to join in," he added with an unsubtle glance at Carina.

Sarah looked past him at his friends, all of whom were staring somewhat lecherously at her. "I don't even know your name."

"Dick," he said with a cocky grin. "So, you'll be coming then? Make sure you wear something comfortable."

That was it. "Um… Dick. Thanks, but no thanks. I've got other plans."

"You sure? We've got a hot tub. It's very relaxing. Might help you to loosen up a bit," he added, reaching to place a hand on Sarah's shoulder to 'massage' it. Clearly, he was trying to be smooth. It wasn't working.

She grabbed his wrist, and deftly pulled it off her shoulder, before twisting it over and pressing the back of his hand against the edge of the table. "I said no, Dick." She saw him grimace, obviously trying to not show any outward signs of pain. Briefly, she pressed down harder, just enough for him to release a whimper, before releasing his hand.

"Carina?" he asked.

Carina pursed her lips and shook her head. Sarah looked away from Dick's retreating figure to find Carina, Zondra and Amy all staring at her. "What?"

"I think you made him cry," Zondra said.

Sarah shrugged and reached down to open her sandwich.

"I don't think I've ever seen Dick Duffy cry before," Carina mused.

"He had it coming," Sarah muttered.

"That he did."

"Hi," a new voice joined the conversation, "um, Sarah?"

Sarah methodically set down her sandwich, which was midway to her mouth, and slowly turned around in her seat. "What is it, with guys at this school, and their inability – Chuck!" Sarah stared momentarily at him as his crooked smile slowly slid down into a non-expression.

"I just thought I'd see how you were doing," he said, "but it's fine if you're busy."

"Chuck! I'm sorry, it's just that – Actually, it doesn't matter. Sit down?" She looked to her left and right. All the seats were occupied.

"You know what, Sarah," Carina said, picking up her tray, "I was just leaving. You can sit here, Chuck."

"We were just off as well," Zondra added, pulling Amy up off her seat and away, leaving just Chuck and Sarah with a gaggle of sophomores who filled up the rest of the table.

Sarah blinked and alternated her questioning gaze between Carina's practically full tray, and Carina's face. When all Carina did was wink, she turned to Chuck. "Sit down?" she asked, patting the newly vacated seat beside her. "Where are all of your friends?"

"Morgan and Bryce? Gone off somewhere," he said, making swirling patterns in the air with his hand.

"Ah," Sarah nodded, wondering what exactly he was doing here as she finally managed to eat some of her sandwich. "What?" she said, her mouth twisting up into a half smile when she noticed Chuck unsuccessfully attempting to surreptitiously steal glances at her.

He jumped. She laughed. "Nothing…" he replied quickly, averting his eyes. "What did you _do_ to him?" he blurted out after a moment, tilting his head back towards Dick Duffy's table.

"Who? Dick? I just warned him not to try and get in my pants."

"Oh," Chuck said, muted, "you do that to everyone?"

"Not _everyone_," she replied with a sly glance at him.

Chuck coughed loudly. "So, how was Spanish?" he said, pretending to ignore her last statement. "Did you manage to find your way there?"

"It was good. And yes, thanks to your brilliant guiding skills."

"I aim to please," Chuck replied with a laugh. "Oh, hi, Mr Casey," he said suddenly, causing her to look up from her food at the large man who had just appeared in front of them.

"Bartowski. I just need to know if you'll be carrying on with self defence in Gym this year."

"Oh, yes, I'd like that."

"Self defence?" Sarah asked incredulously, "I didn't know that was a Gym option."

Casey turned to her. "It's not advertised very well, Miss…" he growled, fishing for a name.

"Walker. Do you mind if I sign up?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, as if he was trying to figure out her motive for wanting to be in his class. "Fine," he said shortly, "room 3 in the gym building. Bartowski can show you the way."

"You do self defence?" they both said simultaneously as Casey walked away.

"Yea," Chuck said, deciding to go first, "why?"

She looked at his tall, lanky frame; not exactly suited to doing martial arts. "No reason. What martial arts do you do with Casey?" she asked.

"Mainly karate. I'm nearly ready for my brown belt," he added proudly.

"Black. 2nd Dan," Sarah replied with a grin.

Chuck blinked. "Karate?"

"And judo."

"Remind me to never, ever, ever make you even a little bit angry."

She flashed him a smile, and just then, her phone buzzed. It was Graham. "Chuck, I really have to take this, sorry."

"No problem," he replied with his disarming smile that could make anyone do anything he wanted them to. "Oh, what do you have after lunch?"

"English."

"Me too, I suppose I'll see you then."

"Yep, can't get away from me," she flashed him a smile as she stood up and left the cafeteria.

"Sarah," she said, once she had found a secluded spot outside the cafeteria, between the main building and the gym.

"Sarah, it has been decided that you should be fully read in on the Chuck situation. We will do a video conference tonight."

"Where?"

"Your hotel room. The TV has already been outfitted with the necessary technology."

**~Grease~**

Sarah pushed open the door of her hotel room, and slotted the plastic keycard into the holder by the door before flicking the lights on. A dim orange glow filled room – hotel room lights never seemed adequate, and she had stayed in a lot of hotel rooms – as she toed off her shoes and flopped down onto the newly made bed. Having your bed made for you was definitely a perk of staying in a hotel, she thought, as she pushed her fingers into soft, fluffy duvet. Of course, the cons of staying in a hotel room were endless; but until the Agency managed to find her a flat, she was stuck here. At least it was a five star and all her food was paid for by them.

She glanced at her bag, which she had flung next to the desk, situated next to the bed, by the huge window that gave her a panoramic view of the Burbank skyline – she could even see the Warner Bros. water tower – and thought about the large quantity of homework which she needed to do. It had only been one day, and she already had a long translation to do for French and Spanish, and a 2,000 word essay to do on the Great Gatsby for English. She smiled when she remembered the look on Chuck's face when Mr Sterling had said he would "ease them in" with a short essay of 'only' 2,000 words. Chuck had been very entertaining in English, but he was also really sweet, always trying to help her out and catch her up on things that she hadn't done yet. She had definitely made the right decision when she forced Carina to sit at the back with him and his friends. Although, she was pretty sure there was something going on between her and Bryce – the one with the floppy hair – given the way he moved as far away from Carina as possible, but also couldn't help stealing glances at her. Kind of like Chuck; except she was sitting right next to him. Suddenly, the TV screen at the foot of the bed flared into life, disturbing her from her reverie.

"Oh, good, you're here," Graham said, as soon as his head popped onto the screen.

Briefly, Sarah wondered if he'd been checking the room every ten minutes, waiting for her to come back from school. He probably had. "Director," she acknowledged.

"How are you finding Buchanan?"

"It's good," she replied shortly.

"I assume you've met Mr Bartowski?"

"Yes. We share a few classes."

"Right. You probably want to know why we need you to protect him, then?" he said, before continuing without waiting for a reply. "Last year, every student in Junior or Senior year of High School did a special test. You did it as well. It was called the Pictorial Reasoning Assessment."

"Yes, I remember. We never got the results for it, though."

"That's because the results are classified. The test was run by the Agency; it was designed to assess the image retention rate of students."

Sarah frowned. "What is image retention rate?"

"It is the ability of the mind to absorb subliminally embedded information. Specifically, embedded into pictures. For over thirty years now, we've been trying to come up with new ways; better ways, of training Agents. And then, in the late 90s, a scientist working with the National Security Agency came up with it. For years, they internally developed the Intersect project – a computer database of information, skills, languages, anything, that could be uploaded to an Agent. The Agent could then, in theory, recall the information at will. However, there was one snag: there was too much data. Preliminary testing showed that only a tiny fraction of the database could be uploaded into the average person. But, a higher retention rate would mean more of the database could be uploaded. So, the CIA conducted the test. A survey, of sorts. The scientists calculated that a retention rate of 94% would be required to retain the full database without any long term adverse effects. Chuck is the only person in the country with a rate of above 94%."

Sarah reeled. Chuck was a vital intelligence asset. The next generation agent, capable of instant information recall. Training times would be cut in half. Operational effectiveness would increase massively. "What was his rate?" she croaked out.

"98.9%. Sarah, he is extremely special."

_Yes, he is. _

(Sung to the tune of _Beauty School Dropout_)  
Sarah:  
His story's sad to tell,  
A guy who's world is sad.  
Yet he's the most happy guy in high school.  
His life is so, all, clear-cut,  
Although he's got no parents.  
Don't know what you want me to do to him...

Graham:  
Make sure he's ready, ready for spying school, oh yea.  
Make sure he's ready, passed his exams, and your's too.

And we really should take some time, to train him in Kung Fu.  
After spending this whole year, getting him ready for spy school.  
We should get moving.  
We've only got this year to go.  
Must make him ready.  
He's got the brains but not the brawn.  
If he goes for his spy training,  
He wouldn't make it alive.  
Turn him into a spy,  
Make sure that he's ready.

Make sure he's ready, ready for spy school, oh yea.  
Make sure he's ready, passed his exams, and your's too.

Sarah:  
Graham, I don't know.  
He's not cut out to be a spy.  
And besides, Casey,  
(Casey?)  
Is training him in martial arts.  
Now he's genius,  
He's brilliant.  
Could be an analyst?  
That would suit him better,  
Yes, I think that's better.

Graham:  
Sarah, no no no.  
He cannot be an analyst.  
Sarah, he must be,  
A full-blown C-I-A agent.  
Now I've told you that,  
That's an order.  
You must do what I say.  
Make sure you do it,  
Must be done during this year.

Make sure he's ready, ready for spying.  
Make sure he's ready, ready for spying.  
Make sure he's ready, ready for spying.

"But why do I need to _protect_ him?"

Graham sighed, rubbing his face with his hand. "There was a security breach. A rogue faction got hold of the test results, and they will do anything to prevent us from getting the Intersect operational.

"Sarah, Chuck is in mortal danger."


End file.
